Tangible
by ohthechorus
Summary: Collection of my Drabbles/Ficlets. Typically Jacob & Edward.
1. Author's Note

Drabbles Authors note

Wellll,

Here's a Collection of I guess you'd call them drabbles. They're what I've been working on while between classes at school. I sit in the corner of the cafeteria and stare at people before I turn down and write things furiously into my notebook. I had a serious thing for being Harriet the Spy when I was younger.

ANYWAY.

Most of these are fluff, with the exception of one with some language, and another with some serious poorly worded Boysex.

Don't choke on the adorability.

The first two are Jacob/Edward. The second has Jacob/Nessie mentions.

The last four aren't realllyyyy Twilight, but they could be… technically.

I mean, okay, they're Rob/Taylor….

BUT!

You have three options if that isn't your thing:

1) Just read through them how they are, because, in my opinion they're the best ones.

2) … Don't read them? :[

C) You could always replace them with Edward and Jacob. Why? Because it works. Really it does.

They're a series based around the words from the chorus of an Owl City song. I like them. Hopefully you do, too.

Here's the important stuff:

Title: Tangible; A Collection of Miscellaneous Drabbles/Ficlets Pertainging to the Ship of Jacob & Edward.

Rating: Overall M

Warings: BOYSEX, Also: angst

Pairings: Jacob/Edward Nessie/Jacob Rob/Taylor .

Author: ME!

I don't own any of the characters, nor words to any songs used in titles. :[


	2. A Decade Under the Influence

A Decade Under the Influence

"Jacob! Jacob, come on, noone has seen you outside of that room in at least a week," Seth, the only soul on the reservation who had even attempted to approach the sullen teen since it happened, called through the door as he pounded on it. "Everyone is really worried, Jake."

The door opened mid knock to a frumpy, ashen, "They have a funny way of showing," barely above a whisper, he replies, scratching his head.

Seth winced at the retort. Pausing a moment he took in the older youth standing in the open doorway. "Look at you," Jacob had lost almost all color in his complexion and it seemed as if his skin and muscle hung limply from his large frame, "you're a mess. You're skin and bones."

"I'm a nervous wreck," the larger wolf countered. The recently disinterred feeling of perpetual illness he had been experiencing since he ceased eating, sleeping, or any other function necessary to maintain an even remotely healthy existence continued to prosper, forcing him to lean against the wall and clutch his stomach. Of course, it didn't help he was fighting against hi own body's desire—no… his body's need to see the lee—vampire.

Seeing this forced the younger boy over the edge, "Come on," he says dragging at the annoyed, half naked teen's wrist, "you need to tell him, maybe not Bella, not yet, but you at least owe it to him-- to yourself to tell him."

Jacob hastily steals his appendage from the boy's grasp. "No. Go away. Let me rot in peace." No one ever takes into account how hard it was on him. It was always, 'He's a leech!' or 'He's.. a he… How could you?' 'What about the Pack?' Yadda yadda. They never stopped to think maybe Jacob already realized all of the wrong things about his situation. Realized them, stewed over them, then threw all of these cares out the window because the vampire was his sole reason for existence. He turns his back on his young friend and heads towards the bed, his only sanctuary left.

"Yes, you are. No, I won't. No, definitely out of the question, Bella would have my nuts for earrings if I let you die," Seth retorts unabashedly. Realizing he was going to need to force some action from Jacob, he scours the floor for a shirt in a somewhat wearable and presentable state. Finding a grey v-neck, he shakes out the dust and wrinkles and tosses it at the prone body. He says with finality, "We're going. Now."

Jacob sighs, giving in to the nagging of the other shifter. He knows he needs to do this. He knows it's not going to end well. He tries and tries to convince himself that he;s doing this so that his pack or Bella won't worry about him anymore, but he knows—boy does he know, that he would do or give anything just to see him.

Him.

Edward.

Pulling the shirt over his head Jacob thinks to himself as he follows Seth out the door,

I've got a bad feeling about this.

I've got a bad feeling about this.


	3. Thinking of You

Thinking of You

He'd never tell. Really, he wouldn't.

The pretend imprint. Nessie.

Everything.

Everything was him.

Always.

At least this way he was allowed to stay around him.

When he held her.

When he kissed her.

When he fucked her.

It was always him.

A vivid imagination gets you a long way when life rolls against you with loaded dice.

It was bad.

He knew it. He was denying himself things he needed, he was lying to everyone he ever loved, and he wasn't sure if the secret got out if the damage could ever be repaired.

Oh, how he knew how wrong this was.

It's not like he'd… killed anyone, though, right?

It was close enough.


	4. Circle Me

Circle Me and the Needle Moves Gracefully Back and Forth

"Taylor," he spoke softly to the boy slumbering on his chest. He needed to get ready for a scene he was shooting in a bit, but the youth cradled in the nook of his arm wouldn't budge. "Come on, Tay."

Rob attempted to slide out from his lover's embrace, but as he did the stockier male subconsciously clung to him tighter, "Stop rocking the boat, you'll knock us all in," he mumbled into the neck of the older actor.

Defeated, he laid back down, chuckling lightly, and resigned himself to a strict reprimand and a day full of explaining himself.


	5. If My Heart Was a Compass

If My Heart Was a Compass You'd Be North

"Rooooooooob," he whined, knowing it would eventually get what he wanted. "Rob, come onnnn. It's only an hour and forty-five minutes long, it's cute, and I heard it's a great date movie!" Taylor continued begging, "Pleaaaasseeeeee?"

He looked up at the older man with those large, chocolatey eyes, a pout etched firmly on his features; an adorable, obnoxiously cute pout that couldn't be ignored with four bottles of vicodin. Rob stretched his hand and ruffled the boy's hair, a smirk growing across his mouth, "Anything for you, Sweet."

Taylor smacked the hand away and looked up at Rob, his trademark grin flashing across his face. "Thanks!" A peck on the cheek, and he's turned to the girl working the counter, "Two for Up, please."


	6. Risk It All

Risk It All 'Cause I'll Catch You If You Fall Wherever You Go

Noone said it would feel like this. 'This' is a hard thing to describe. Awesome? Earthshattering? Groundbreaking? Terrifyingly-mindnumbingly-blissfully-the-most-fucking-amazing-thing-I-have-ever-fucking-experienced? Nope. They're all, every single one of them understatements. Not that I could even put it that eloquently given my current predicament.

I expected it to be good, there's no way it couldn't be with so many people doing it for so long, but I never expected anything like this. Every single molecule of my entire goddamned being was centered on this one place in my body, where he was on top of me, forcing himself inside; over and over and over, resulting in what could only be close to be described as the absolute fucking epitome of pleasure.

I mean, this was…

This was just..

"Fuck." I moaned, eyes practically welded shut.

Robert breathed heavily into my neck, biting and licking along my collarbone. It was unthinkable how one man could be so… irresistible… so… good.. to me. With Rob moving so powerfully above me, it wasn't long before I felt it, the burn in my stomach.

White hot waves of pleasure washed over me, as the angel above me pushed me over the edge. Somewhere in my reverie I sort of felt Rob release. As we came down from our mutual high, Rob settled down on top of me, worshipping me with kisses and nips and licks. Man, I really did love him.

"My Taylor."


	7. If My Heart Was a House

If My Heart Was a House You'd Be Home

It hurt.

It wasn't like, 'rip your heart out and choke down three bottles of Nyquil just to get asleep' pain, but it did hurt.

He was done filming Eclipse, and had some time off between now and the start of Breaking Dawn, so he was at home sitting on the floor and leaning up against the wall under his bedroom window.

It had only been a week; puny, measly week. Seven days. Why did such a short time without Rob send him into such a depression. "God," he whined inwardly at himself, "I'm such a girl."

His phone ringing brought him out of his stupor. He didn't even need to check the ID, no one ever really called him. He opened the phone, not being able to keep a smile from creep across his face as he heard that silky voice through the ear piece, "Hello, Sunshine." Was he really that affected? Just by a phone call? Just a second ago he was lethargic and morose, but after fur syllables from that mouth, he was a happy, chirpy school girl.

"Rob, it's two in the morning, there's no sun," Taylor argued deftly. He was rewarded with a chuckle from the other end, accompanied by several peels of thunder mixing their way into the sound. "By the sounds of it, it doesn't sound very sunny there, either… Wherever you are…"

"I'm in… France with my mother, but she's off looking at scarves or something," Taylor is dangling at every word coming through the phone, missing the speaker with every fiber. "And… wherever I am, and whatever the weather looks like doesn't matter."

His eyes widened a little bit at this, "What are you talking about, boy?"

"Simple, Sweet. You are my unending sunshine, and since wherever I go you're always right here," Taylor didn't know, but Rob patted his left breast at this, "the weather's always beautiful."

Taylor was left speechless. Did he… did he hear that right? "Rob."

"Yes, Tay?" He sounded so oblivious to what he was doing to the younger teen.

"When I see you, I'm going to kiss you," he continued," Then… ohhhh then, I'm going to punch you. Punch you right in the face." This was received with throaty laughter from the other end. "Then I'm going to kiss you until you can't move your lips."

"Why's that, Love?" the question was light and coy.

"Because it should be illegal to talk to anyone like that," he said darkly. Really it should be. No one should ever be allowed to utter words in such a way where even sitting down, my knees get wobbly and turn to mush and I can't help but feel a bubble of emotion fly straight up from my abdomen to my throat.

"Well, my apologies, but it's true," THERE it was again, my knees now the consistency of creamed corn.

"Apology accepted."

"Good."

…

Silence.

….

"Rob?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."


	8. Meteor Shower

Meteor Shower

Don't own the characters, nor do I own the Owl City lyrics. :[

He'd struggled for this ever since that ill fated imprint; the one that caused him to lose his best friend, his pack, everything-- well, at least temporarily. She got over it when she realized she wouldn't lose anything, and the pack can't expel one of their own.

-I can finally see that you're right there beside me.-

The cold, granite slabs of muscle rise and fall slowly, not out of need for air, but out of habit and long practice to fit in, his head rising and falling with it. His brown eyes close again, and he just nestles in closer to the crook of the arm holding him tight.

-I am not my own,-

Heated lips clash against freezing ones. Hands roved over bodies, followed mouths. A flash of tan skin melting into pale white. He wants all of this. All he can think of is the scent of the other body, filling his nostrils and driving him further into the lust that's blinded him.

His face pressed flat against the mattress, his ass inversely stuck in the air. The cold white force slamming its way inside him, forcing growls, moans any form of noise out of his throat. Eyes closed tight, the sensations he's feeling bring him close to passing out. A guttural utterance one could only guess, "Fuck me."

-For I have been made new.-

He hated himself for imprinting on the leech. The pack hated him. Bella hated him. He was a guy. He was a vampire. He was her girlfriend. He tried to keep his distance. He tried to ignore it. It tore at his insides to not always have his imprinted in sight. He became a recluse and physically ill, until now.

-"Please, Don't let me go."-

He says.

"Never. Never again."

The yellow eyes lock into his. Of course, he'd hear—he doesn't sleep. A kiss on his forehead. "Never."

-I desperately need you.-

Those yellow eyes continue to look him over, the mouth curls into a slight smile. He'd already been lost to sleep again.


End file.
